Yor. What Seale is that that hangs without thy bosom?
Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the Writing
Aum. My Lord, 'tis nothing
Yorke. No matter then who sees it,
I will be satisfied, let me see the Writing
Aum. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not haue seene
Yorke. Which for some reasons sir, I meane to see:
I feare, I feare
Dut. What should you feare?
'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay apparrell, against the Triumph
Yorke. Bound to himselfe? What doth he with a Bond
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a foole.
Boy, let me see the Writing
Aum. I do beseech you pardon me, I may not shew it
Yor. I will be satisfied: let me see it I say.
Snatches it